Permanent Lines (4 page)

Micah came up beside me with a bin of dirties, noticing the same. “Holy fuck me eyes,
bro.”

“Not just me then, huh?”

He shook his head with an eyebrow raised. “Shit, no, that girl wants a shake by the
Drake.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him aside, needing to get the bottle of tequila next to
him.

“What? She’s fucking hot! You’re not gonna hit that?”

“I didn’t say
that
. It’s just your weird-ass sayings.”

He looked at me like I had ten heads. “Shake from the Drake? I thought that one was
stellar.”

“It’s almost as bad as your Thunder from Down Under. Which would only be even moderately
funny if any of us were Australian.”

“Are you kidding me?” He looked genuinely confused. “This stuff is Hallmark card material!”

I stifled a laugh. “Hallmark, dude? Really?”

“Someday, bro. Someday,” he guaranteed, pointing at me while he started to walk away.

I chuckled.
Fucking idiot!

“How’s it goin’, Drake?” One of my regulars set up shop at his usual spot near the
end of the bar and motioned for his beer.

Had I mentioned that I got a mix of people at McShane’s? Yeah, I got ‘em all—the old,
young, and ones with no life or goal in life than to sit at the end of a bar and chat
it up with the neighborhood bartender.

“Same old, same old, Rich,” I told him, pouring him his usual Coors draught.

“Any new ones?”

“New ones?” I laughed it off. “What do I look like?”

“Oh, to be young again, Merrick.” He grinned. “Do ‘em while you can, son. Then when
they’re all used up, save a good one for the future.”

I snickered and shook my head. Old Man Rich had to be at least 70 and always had something
philosophical on his mind.

“Nah, I’m good,” I told him. “I pick ‘em smart and never settle down.”

“What kind of life is that?” he practically shouted, holding up his hand, pissed.
“God gave you that ding-a-ling to have fun with, then to knock some lucky gal up with.”

I almost spit out the water I just sipped, laughing hysterically.

“Women can be a pain is the ass, don’t I know it,” he shook his head, elaborating,
“but there ain’t nothing like sharing a lifetime with the one that can make you happy,
son.”

“You married, Rich?” I asked, realizing that I knew very little about him, just where
and what he liked to drink.

“Forty-seven years,” he said confidently. “And I miss my lady every single day.”

“Aw, man, I’m sorry,” I apologized sincerely. “But forty-seven years,” I whistled,
impressed, “that’s a long ass time.”

He nodded. “What I wouldn’t give to go back in time and live it all again,” he admitted.
“Don’t cut yourself short, son. Loving someone ain’t a bad thing.” He shook his head.
“Not at all.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” I grinned, handing him another draft. “But I can’t make any
promises.”

Truth was, though, I didn’t want to keep anything like that in mind. I’d already been
burnt badly. The only girl that ever made me feel anything, even though it was only
for less than 48 hours, left me high and dry. I was convinced that that life just
wasn’t for me. Meeting someone worth settling down with was crazy talk … it wasn’t
worth it to me, especially while I was still hung up on her.

After Rich put his romantic thoughts in my head, my mood dampened. I kept finding
myself staring at the stool Amelia sat in the night of our race. Dammit, if I could
go back to that night … What I would give to live that day again—what I would’ve done
differently. But would it have mattered? Would she have disappeared anyway?

Micah came up beside me. “Hey, you all right, man?”

I looked at him blankly, handing him the bottle of vodka in my hand. “Can you cover
for a second?” I asked. “I need a breather.”

He looked at me in question for a moment before taking the bottle. “Yeah … sure,”
he said.

I could tell he wanted to know what was up, but I wasn’t saying a damn thing more.
I walked by him with long strides, making my way to the stairwell of my apartment,
taking a seat on the bottom stair and shutting the door. I sat there with my head
in my hands, unable to control my wandering mind.

“What’s your favorite color?” I had asked Amelia before taking a sip of my coffee
that next morning.

“That’s random,” she’d pointed out, grinning.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Just something I don’t know.”

“Brown.”

I nodded my head with an impressed grin. I knew she wasn’t going to say some girly
color like pink or purple or some shit like that. Amelia wasn’t your typical girl.

“What?” she asked.

“I thought you were going to say pink,” I lied.

Her eyebrows scrunched. “Pink?”

“That is the color on the side of your dirt bike trailer,” I pointed out.

“That was my dad’s doing—I had nothing to do with that!”

“Hey!” I held up my hands defensively. “Calm down, killer.” I smiled.

She chuckled. “My dad still sees me as his little girl all dressed in pink and playing
with Barbies.”

“What’s wrong with playing with Barbies?” I asked, confused. “People don’t play with
those anymore?”

She laughed again, shaking her head. “Shit, are you a closet Barbie fan?” she asked,
mock-horrified.

“Hey, there is absolutely nothing wrong with peeking underneath that hot pink bathing
suit and keeping one, maybe two, around for kicks,” I said, trying to hold onto my
seriousness.

“That’s weird.”

I laughed. “Yeah, that did sound a little creeptastic, didn’t it?”

“You’re lucky you’re hot, because that may have made me fake having to go to the bathroom
and slip out the back door instead.”

“I’m hot?” I asked with a raised brow.

She shrugged her shoulders and held up her thumb and forefinger, making a tiny space
between them. “A little.”

“I told you you’d want me,” I flirted.

“It’s the tattoos,” she said dryly, but with a sweet ass smirk too.

I nodded my head slightly. “Sure it is.” I winked, making her cheeks grow a little
pink.

She smiled. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

I rubbed my face before nailing the door in front of me.
Dammit!
Why did she have to be so perfect? And so fucking simple? She was effortless to be
with … Everything … everything about her was easy.

I walked back out to the bar. I was done thinking about her. I grabbed the bottle
of tequila that Micah just finished with and poured a shot, downing it immediately.

“You good?” Micah asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Go ahead,” I waved for him to go back to what he was doing, “I’m
good here now.”

Micah clapped me on the back and grabbed a new towel, snapping me in the arm with
it before tucking it in his back pocket. “Smile, then, asshole. Make us some good
tips.”

I picked the tip jar up from beside the register. “Yeah, no shit, because you obviously
didn’t.” I angled it in his direction so he could see inside of it.

He held up his hands while he backed away. “They all wanted a sizzle from the dizzle!”

I shook my head, throwing a dirty rag at him. “You’re such a fuckin’ tool,” I said,
unable to hide the amusement in my voice.

His grin grew, laughing. “Good stuff, isn’t it?” he kidded.

“Get to fuckin’ work or you ain’t gettin’ shit.”

With all thoughts of Amelia in the back of my head, I kept my eye at the end of the
bar, periodically winking and smirking at the blonde. After a few drinks, she stood
from the stool she had been sitting on, joining her girlfriends on the makeshift dance
floor that somehow always appeared on busy nights, shaking her ass to whatever song
came over the stereo system.

Shit, was it hard to look away once she started doing that. With every free second
I had, I found my eyes veering to where she was. Her curves … damn, they were heaven.
I wasn’t a fan of stick girls, and she definitely wasn’t one of them. I liked having
something to grab, to hold onto. Bony girls were uncomfortable and I was always afraid
I’d break them. I liked ones I could get rough and roll around in the sack with.

By the fourth song, she sauntered back towards the bar, looking a little tipsy, so
I had a water waiting. Hooking up with drunk-ass girls wasn’t my thing.

Her eyebrow lifted as soon as she saw me set down the water.

“Looks like you need it,” I told her once she was close enough to hear me.

She looked at me, offended. “Are you cutting me off?”

I shook my head slowly, my eyes wavering down her body, studying her curves, my acknowledgment
less than subtle this time. “I was watching you.”

She looked at me intrigued. “Yeah?”

“I liked it.” My eyes stayed on hers, showing my seriousness along with my interest.
“And I wouldn’t want you to get dehydrated,” her eyes squinted and head tilted slightly,
confused, “or not aware of tonight.”

Her tongue slid across her lips when the light bulb began to light in her head. “Or
maybe you just need to catch up?” she suggested.

My mind temporarily swayed, thinking back to the last time I had … No, I couldn’t
go down that road. I shook the thought from my head, pulling two shot glasses from
underneath the bar and filling them both with more tequila. Her grin grew as she lifted
her shot. I ran my eyes from her assets back to her face, holding the shot in my hand
up to click with hers.

“To a fun night,” she said, her eyes glossed and seductive.

“We’ll see,” I winked before tossing the shot back.

She snickered with a sexy ass grin before turning to walk away, joining her friends
back on the floor. My eyes followed her, focused on her fucking beautiful ass, all
Jennifer Lopez plump. Naturally, I wet my lips with my tongue and pictured my hands
gripping it later. It was definitely going to be a good night.

It was just a few minutes until closing when the crowd started to filter out. I’d
already announced last call almost a half hour ago, generating most people’s departures.
Between Micah and myself, the bar was already pretty much cleaned and stocked, the
dirty glasses from the current lingerers still left. The girl, Kara, was pressed up
against a high table sipping on her latest drink, giggling and talking to her friends.

At exactly 2:00 a.m., I pulled the plug on the stereo and flipped the sign on the
door to “closed,” getting rid of the last of the patrons. As planned, on my way back
to the bar, I stopped at Kara’s table, where the girls were quietly discussing their
plans. My eyes immediately found Kara’s.

“You sticking around?”

“I’d planned to,” she responded, her words a purr.

I nodded, pleased with her answer. I was feeling slightly buzzed and judging by her
stance and the way she was carrying herself, she was the same, not drunk like I had
earlier insinuated she not be. The cards were falling perfectly. Thank goodness. I
needed tonight for more reasons than one.

“I just have a couple of things to finish up, but then we can head out.” My smile
was charismatic, the excitement of bringing her upstairs to my apartment starting
to hum through my body. This was good. It was gonna be fantastic.

Her lips found the straw of her drink while her eyes slanted up to mine, displaying
her long ass eyelashes. She really was fucking beautiful. “K,” she agreed.

The adrenaline was pumping and my heart was beating out of my chest, alive. I didn’t
respond, just grinned before walking over to help Micah with the last of the glasses
and to wipe down the bar once more.

“You lucky son of bitch,” he discreetly said to me once I was only a foot or so away.

I snickered, nodding my head towards the other girls. “There’s still some left.”

He looked down to the sink with almost a bashful grin. “Nah, I’m good.”

I looked at him in question. “What? Since when?”

He looked up, almost lost in thought, debating his answer.

“What the fuck, dude? You’re seriously not going to tell me?” I asked, borderline
annoyed. Micah and I have been best friends since kids. We always knew who each other
was crushing, fucking, or just plain friends with.

“Maddy,” was all he said, and that’s the only knowledge I needed. Maddy was my best
friend’s younger sister. She and Kayla (yes, my BFF is a girl) were always at my races
and hung out with Micah and the guys while I was out on the track.

“Maddy?” I questioned, completely in shock. I had no clue he liked her or even saw
her in that way.

He nodded his head in agreement, a grin appearing on his face. “Yeah, I actually think
I love her.”

I shook my head, still not grasping this new revelation. “Maddy?” I said again, still
in disbelief. “Really?”

“Dude, really.”

“Wow. Well, good for you guys, buddy,” I said before patting him on the shoulder,
genuinely happy for them. Maddy was a nice girl and actually, once I thought about
it, perfect for Micah. They were both slightly reserved, but with good heads on their
shoulders, integrity, and hearts of gold. I’d never have matched them up if given
the opportunity, but I guess when I thought about it, they really worked.